inside a white car
you drive towards the
countryside
upon a brown road
you slice a path and
leave
a mob of molecular
dust
along the side of this
country
are blooming wild daisies
where dragonflies
sojourn
there is big mango tree
as old as
the second world war where
bees till today
swarm
the bamboo cottage is
still there
beside a balding hill
where the early morning sun
peeks and stays for a while
perhaps sipping mist
and then
leaves you feeling awkward
about its
fidelity to
routine
for here you are breaking rules
and finding ways still
to be blameless and like a
pure white lamb
unblemished.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem